


Hanami: Flower-viewing Picnic

by Jougetsu



Series: xxxHolic Fix-It AU [2]
Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Disaster Watanuki, Domestic Fluff, Endgame Doumeki/Watanuki, Fix-It, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 21:11:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18725068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jougetsu/pseuds/Jougetsu
Summary: High school may be over, the shop may be gone, but there's still lingering unfinished business.(Or Watanuki is a bisexual disaster and has great friends, but first crushes die hard).





	Hanami: Flower-viewing Picnic

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up two weeks after Higan left off. This story is more Himawari-centric, but the rest of the series is very firmly Doumeki/Watanuki centric and continues the theme of seasonal activities/celebrations. I'm not a hundred percent happy with it, but I didn't want it to languish on my hard drive any longer since y'all have been so kind and supportive.

Watanuki had prepared a flower-viewing picnics ever since Yuuko had took him on at the shop. It hadn’t occurred to him that it might be something to do this year too until Uncle Nichika asked if he and Doumeki had decided on where to see cherry blossoms. 

“I didn’t plan on it,” Watanuki averted his gaze and worried that he should have offered to make a picnic basket for the family. The Doumeki family had been nothing but kind to him. 

“There’s a place by the river that doesn’t get too crowded,” Doumeki said. “Miss Kunogi and little Kohane are coming on Thursday.” 

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” Watanuki nearly jumped out of his seat. “I have to go grocery shopping! I haven’t prepared a menu! I-”

“The shops are closed at this hour,” Mayumi observed, pinning him in place with a smile that reminded Watanuki of his mentor. 

“We wanted to surprise you. The girls and I were going to get some store-bought lunch box sets,” Doumeki had the grace to look apologetic. “You do too much.” 

“I can’t have a picnic for Himawari and Kohane with store-bought lunches,” Watanuki slumped bck in his chair. He didn’t even know what the prices were for briny cherry tree leaves this year. Which brand of red bean paste was the best quality for the least money?

“It’s my understanding that Shizuka and the others meant this as a picnic for you,” Nichika patted Watanuki’s hand. “They wanted to thank you for always taking care of them. So you shouldn’t worry about the food arrangements.” 

“I think it’s a bit hard to tell a chef not to worry about food,” said Mayumi. “While I’m nowhere near your caliber I’m happy to help make sure everything is ready by Thursday.” 

“Don’t overdo it,” Doumeki made a face that on anyone else might be called a pout, but on him looked like he was suffering from indigestion. Not that Watanuki could tell any of his blank expressions apart, no. 

“Oh, now you don’t have any ridiculous off-season requests?” Watanuki rolled his eyes. Of all the times for Doumeki to act concerned!

“Shizuka, did you really do that?” Mayumi asked her son. 

Nichika sighed, “Just like his grandfather. We didn’t raise you to be rude like that, Shizuka.” 

A rare sudden blush, just the barest hint of pink, washed over Doumeki’s face as he mumbled, “Nowadays I get to see Watanuki everyday and eat his cooking.” 

Watanuki couldn’t even guess at what kind of explanation that was. 

“If I ever find out you’re making demands on poor Kimihiro like that again you’ll be sorry, young man!” Mayumi wagged her finger menacingly. 

“Yes, Mother,” Doumeki replied, but he was looking at Watanuki. 

Late after everyone had gone to bed, Watanuki started scribbling out some ideas for the picnic. Would it be alright to add some Western style sweets to the picnic? It wasn’t traditional, but the girls loved them so (and he had a feeling Doumeki did too).

“The worst part about no longer having a corporeal form is that I’m missing out on your cooking,” Haruka lamented suddenly at Watanuki’s side. He was harder to see and hear now that the equinox had passed two weeks ago. Soon he’d only be able to speak to Watanuki in dreams again. 

“I’ll put something nice on the family altar,” Watanuki promised. “Sakura mochi maybe?” 

“Thank you kindly,” Haruka pinched his cheek. “Not the same as really getting my mouth around it, but that’ll have to do.” 

“I’m sorry you can’t come to the flower-viewing,” Watanuki said. “I would’ve made you a special dish.” 

“Lift a glass in my honor.” 

“I can’t drink in public, I’m not twenty yet,” Watanuki shook his head. “We’ll pour sweet sake and set it out on the altar.” 

Yuuko would have raised a bottle or two for Haruka in Watanuki’s place. 

“We are lucky to have you in the our clan,” Haruka sighed deeply. “And yet what are we doing for you?” 

“Your son and daughter-in-law letting me stay here is more than I deserve,” Watanuki protested. “And Doumeki - I can never repay him for everything he’s done for me. It’s an insurmountable debt.” 

Sometimes it keeps Watanuki up at night. He never got to thank Yuuko before the end. He caused just as much pain to Himawari and Kohane as he much as helped them. And Doumeki has literally bled far too much for him. 

“You misunderstand my grandson’s heart,” Haruka laid a hand on Watanuki’s head. “An hour of happiness, any relief from your burdens, if ever one of his actions helped you in the smallest way he considers it no sacrifice at all. And when he causes you pain he considers it the greatest of sins.” 

“All due respect, sir,” Watanuki shut his eyes because Haruka reminded him too much of Doumeki. “You can’t know that.” 

“Ask other gods and spirits and they will tell you,” Haruka replied. “Ask them what Shizuka prays for at the shrines and temples. I know what he has asked the family altar, on whose behalf he asks for health and everlasting happiness.” 

“Isn’t that sort of thing confidential?” Watanuki asked. 

“He would want you to know,” said Haruka. “He has such regard for you, but he is aware of your pride. He does not want you to feel as though you owe him anything. His happiness is your happiness.” 

Which was a heavy burden. Yuuko wanted him to be happy, to live for himself, too. Watanuki wasn’t sure of his chances for success.

“What should I wear for the flower-viewing?” Watanuki changed the topic abruptly. “I’ll never remember if you tell me it in a dream so we might as well do it now. Auntie keeps saying how glad she is that the old kimono are getting used now.” 

Haruka grinned, “I know just the thing.” 

Just the thing turned out to be an ombre silk kimono that was the color of young grass at the bottom hem that faded into light jade in the middle and then ivory up by the collar. Watanuki didn’t want to think about how much the obi must have cost back in the day with its delicate silver-grey weave and embroidered flute motif. He wasn’t entirely certain it was an outfit for a man though there was nothing overtly feminine about it. 

“You’re the very picture of a woods spirit out to ensnare hapless mortals,” pronounced Haruka on Thursday morning. 

“A woods spirit who wears glasses?” snorted Watanuki as he hurried to finish placing everything in the lunch boxes before the family woke up. He probably overdid it with two three-tiered boxes, but it would be far worse to have not made enough. 

“Oh, you’re quite bewitching with or without them,” Haruka snickered and gestured to the kitchen doorway where Doumeki stood transfixed. “As evidenced by Shizuka.” 

Watanuki wrinkled his nose and fought back a blush. He should be used to Doumeki’s stares by now, but for some reason time had not granted him any immunity to them. “Do I have something on my face? Or did I stain the kimono?” 

“N-no,” Doumeki shook his head. “You look…” 

For a wild moment Watanuki was desperately afraid Doumeki would compliment him because then he wouldn’t know what to say or do. 

“I should change,” finished Doumeki. 

“Why? Khakis and a buttoned shirt are fine for a picnic. If anything I’m the one who’s overdressed,” Watanuki protested.

Haruka had the nerve to snicker again. 

“No, you’re perfect as is,” Doumeki said in a rush. “I’ll be right back down.” 

“I should have just worn jeans,” grumbled Watanuki as Doumeki went back upstairs. “The girls will probably think I’m silly for dressing up.” 

“I doubt that,” said Haruka. “I’ll bet they dressed up too for the occasion. And even if they didn’t they’ll be touched that you wanted to look nice for them.” 

Yuuko probably would have said the same thing, he reflected. Watanuki had to swallow down the lump of pain from missing her. He’d never had a flower-viewing picnic until he started working for her and now they would never have one together again. 

“Thank you, sir,” Watanuki put on a smile. 

“Can I help?” Doumeki had returned in a thick red-brown kimono tied with a cherry blossom pink obi tied in rather tidy knot formation that reminded Watanuki that Doumeki had been wearing traditional clothing his whole life between his archery club practices and working at the temple.

“He remembers his traditional palettes better than I expected,” murmured Haruka. “The bean-paste red and petal pink to offset your green and grey, well done.” 

“I’ve got almost everything packed, just text the girls to see if they’re on their way,” Watanuki replied. 

Doumeki obediently moved out of his way and sat at the kitchen table. Within a week of Watanuki moving in to the house the entire family had ceded the kitchen to be Watanuki’s kingdom and his word was law in it. 

“They’re on their way, just got on the train,” Doumeki reported. 

“That’s good,” Watanuki grabbed the thermoses of tea from the counter and started wrapping them in the furoshiki cloths for carrying.

“Let me carry the lunch boxes,” Doumeki suddenly requested. “They’re heavy and I wasn’t able to help you cook.” 

Last year Watanuki would’ve thought Doumeki was mocking him or implying that he was weak. He knew better now. “Don’t forget we also need the tarp for the ground. It’s in the zipped tote by the door.” 

Haruka silently watched over the scene and Watanuki was suddenly aware how domestic, how couple-like it was. And it confused him because he felt certain he oughtn’t like it as much as he did. 

“Have fun, you two,” Haruka told them as they left. Told Watanuki at the very least as he was the only one who could hear him. 

“Does my grandfather spend a lot of time with you?” Doumeki asked after Watanuki relayed the message. 

“He’s around often enough,” Watanuki answered. “It was easiest to hear him around the equinox. Before I came to the house I only saw him in dreams.”

Doumeki nodded and made a noncommittal noise that Watanuki didn’t have time to decipher. 

When they got to the park Himawari and Kohane were already scoping out the best place to sit under the trees. 

“You’re here!” Himawari laughed merrily. “Isn’t the weather just perfect? And all the trees are in bloom!” 

“Auntie helped me pick out a dress to match Himawari’s,” Kohane confided showing off her lace-frilled skirt and matching hair ribbons. 

“You look like sisters,” Watanuki smiled. Yuuko would have been thrilled to see the both of them so happy at last. He knew she had a soft spot for them. 

“I’m glad we dressed up since you’re both dressed up,” said Kohane. “You and Doumeki look like you came from a beautiful painting from long long ago.” 

“Doumeki, you weren’t supposed to let Watanuki make the picnic!” Himari wagged her finger. It was in vain, for her scolding was ruined by her sunny manners. “This was supposed to be a nice treat for him!” 

Doumeki shrugged, “I tried, but he insisted.” -

Himari clucked her tongue and shook her head in a manner so like Yuuko and yet so unlike her that Watanuki had to steady himself for a moment. “We do appreciate all your hard work, but you need a break sometime.” 

Being worried over was still uncomfortable. It sat in the pit of Watanuki’s stomach and he never knew what to do about it. 

“I’m glad Auntie lent us the big picnic blanket,” Kohane said. “Since we’re all in such nice dress-up clothes and Watanuki brought lots of food.”

If Yuuko had been with them he would’ve had to bring a whole cooler full of alcohol. The twins would’ve run around and splashed in the river. Mokona would’ve eaten half of the food. 

If Doumeki read the tension in his spine he was good enough not to say so. Instead he gently helped Watanuki down to the blanket and with the arch of his brows told him that they would be serving him. 

“I’m not a spoiled prince,” Watanuki muttered darkly at his former classmate. 

Terrifyingly, Doumeki looked like he was ready to stroke Watanuki’s cheek. He didn’t, but the intent lingered.-

“If you’re a prince, you’re our prince,” said Kohane with a firmness Watanuki had never heard in her voice. “You brought us all happiness.”

A hundred protests died on Watanuki’s tongue, not just because he had no wish to squash Kohane’s sunny view though that was the largest factor. But that was bolstered by the intense twin expressions that Himawari and Doumeki wore, expressions that said ‘You are our prince, too.’ 

Yuuko would have quipped a sly interjection at that moment.

He settled on smiling at Kohane and starting to unpack the lunch boxes, “I’m glad everyone is happy.” 

Two hours passed in pure sunshiny gladness that lulled Watanuki into believing he was normal. It felt like normal or at least what Watanuki always supposed normal would feel like. The river murmured in the background, his friends were laughing and swapping stories, and they were having a picnic under cherry blossom trees. No magic, no spirits, only the tangibly mundane. Himawari bought bottles of a limited edition cherry blossom soda (“We can’t drink alcohol and I wanted something special for us to toast with”) and Watanuki chased the perfumed sweetness on his lips until there wasn’t a trace left.

At some point Kohane was showing them pictures of the friendship bracelets she made with her friends at school which led to her teaching Doumeki of all people how to knot and braid colored floss to make a pattern called ‘snake eyes.’ 

“Since they’re busy, shall we go for a walk?” Himawari turned to Watanuki.

His heart thudded with unexpected force and he was twelve years old all over again. “A walk would be wonderful.”

From an outsider’s perspective Watanuki has to wonder if they look like a picture perfect high school couple as they stroll arm-in-arm along the river bank. And perhaps in another world they were, perhaps in that world they graduated high school with promise rings and knowing smiles. Himawari’s step and tone are light, lighter than ever before and she’s all the more lovely for it. Her pretty outfit pales in comparison to her sparkling eyes and effervescent laugh. 

Naturally this soap-bubble moment of happiness had to pop.

“I have some news,” Himawari started. “I’ve been accepted to an art program that I applied to last fall.”

“Congratulations,” said Watanuki warmly. How good it was to know one’s friends were finding their place in the world! Even if his own path was uncertain that didn’t mean he would begrudge any of them their good fortune.

“Miss Yuuko encouraged me to apply when I asked her about it,” she said in a rush. “And the more I thought about it the more I liked it because I want to create beautiful things in the world. Because there were so many years where all I did was bring misfortune around me even though I didn’t intend for that to happen. This is something I can do that can make me happy and if I’m lucky make other people happy, too.” 

“Oh.” He patted her hand where it lay on his arm. “I’m certain you’ll make a lot of people happy. You already have a good start.”

At that Himawari flushed and shook her head, “It’s nice that you think so, but I want to do much more. But the school is out in Kyushu and I’m going to miss you all so much.” 

Kyushu was hours away, by plane or train. But Watanuki refused to splash the cold water of negativity on her happiness. Didn’t Himawari deserve everything wonderful?

“We will miss you,” Watanuki said ignoring the tightness in his chest. “But you’ll be living out your dream, right? That’s what everyone wants.” 

The smile dropped from Himawari’s face and she turned her gaze away, towards the river. “Part of me doesn’t want to go, you know. I worried about it for a long time. I put in the application thinking it was silly and that if by a miracle I was accepted than I would have to decline, but I wanted to know I could do it.

“And then at our graduation I realized that if I didn’t go now I would never get the fresh start I wanted. I would stay here and always wonder what would’ve happened if I went and got to start over without the shadow my past.”

“I, I understand.” 

And he did. Watanuki really really did. Wasn’t that exactly the reason he had stumbled onto Yuuko’s shop? He had wanted to be normal and start life over again. -

The irony wasn’t lost on him. At long last Himawari was on his arm and they were dear to each other, but she felt even further away than when she was simply his middle school crush Kunogi.

“I knew you would understand that.” Her voice quavered and Watanuki hated himself because he had a feeling it was somehow due to him. “But what I’m going to say next is really selfish. And I don’t know how I can say it and not be hurtful.” 

Their steps slowed to a stop and the world held its breath. 

“I want to be loved and love someone in return.” Himawari blinked hard as if tears were enemies to be blockaded at any cost. “And I’m not very strong, you know. I couldn’t wake up every day next to someone knowing how badly I’ve hurt them. Even though it was never intentional, even if they had forgiven me a thousand times over. I thought I would be able to, but I don’t think I can.” 

There were scars all over Himawari’s torso - Watanuki’s never seen them, but he knew they were there since that incident. Doumeki gave blood and life force. Himawari took the pain and scars. Watanuki should have died that day from the curse transferred by Himawari’s touch. She blamed herself no matter how much all of them insisted she shouldn’t. Even when Watanuki told her he was never supposed to have been born, which was no fancy only a cold fact, the byproduct of Xiaolang and Sakura’s journey. Sixteen years had been more existence than he ought to have been allotted. Still Himawari grieved as though she were a murderess. 

Watanuki couldn’t make her love him without pain. If the combination of him, Doumeki, Kohane, and Yuuko couldn’t convince Himawari of her innocence nothing could. The knowledge was bitter and jagged, a wound that wouldn’t close. But it would surely be worse for her to stay with him out of pity or guilt.

“There was nothing to forgive, not then and not now.” The words didn’t come easily. Watanuki’s throat felt scratched as though the sentence had to claw its way out. “I never blamed you. No one did.”

“I’m so so sorry, Kimihiro.” Himawari has never said his given name before this moment. She let go of his arm to get a handkerchief from her purse and blotted at her tears.

Idiotically Watanuki stood there paralyzed with emotion. Seeing customers, usually women, bare their souls and crying at the shop had always hurt because he wished people’s sadness could be cured. Seeing Himawari cry was ten thousand times worse. 

It took a few minutes for Himawari to stop crying. She’s as blotchy and red-faced as he would get and it made her even more beautiful because she wasn’t an ideal - she was a person. 

“Yuuko said a lot of things about happiness and sadness and being selfish,” said Watanuki. “I learned a lot from her and from everyone we’ve met along the way. I think she would say it’s okay for you to be selfish. That if it’s a choice between being selfish in a way that makes you happy and others a little sad that’s better than trying to be unselfish in a way that just makes you and everyone else unhappy in the end.” 

Himawari laughed, a sound between a hiccup and an aborted sob. “I miss her, too. She always knew what to say even if it sounded like a riddle. Miss Yuuko always made me feel confident instead of guilty.” 

And Watanuki didn’t. Of course he couldn’t compare himself to Yuuko. No one could be compared to Yuuko. She was a force of nature. 

No longer teary Himawari turned to take both of Watanuki’s hands. “Thank you, for everything, Watanuki.” 

Himawari’s lips brushed his own, so lightly Watanuki thought for a second it was a hallucination, and it was over before it began. His head reeled and his knees buckled as Himawari whispered, “I’m so very selfish. I like you too much to share you.” 

“Share me?” he said. Whatever wits he had were slow and the wheels in his head even slower. “Who would you be-?”

She patted his cheek, the side where his eye was golden instead of indigo. 

Of course. 

“That person is a much better person than me,” Himawari said smiling. “And there are probably more people like them. But I want my number one person to be mine. And that’s awful and selfish and ungenerous.” 

“That’s normal, I think,” Watanuki offered his arm and she took it without hesitation. They’re walking back towards the picnic they left because to wallow wasn’t something either of them were going to do anymore. “And not in a bad way.”

The Watanuki of last year would have protested. That Watanuki would have screamed that Doumeki had no claim on him until he was blue in the face. That Watanuki would have pleaded with Himawari, would have sworn to cut ties with Doumeki, and would have promised there was no one in his heart but her. That Watanuki meant well, but he had been deluded. The Watanuki of today knew that Doumeki was imprinted on his soul, like it or not, and that there was no reversing that. And while it probably was not romantic and never would be, Watanuki would always be intertwined with the other man - likely beyond death if the shop had taught him anything. 

An east wind kicked up and showered some petals down. “We’ll still want you to come and visit. And I’ll always be your friend if it doesn’t hurt you.” 

Himawari squeezed his arm and said “Thank you” so gratefully it squeezed his heart.

Kohane jumped up from the picnic blanket and bubbled over with enough happiness to soothe any lingering heartache. “Did you tell Watanuki about your art school? We have to go to the store and choose thread to make friendship bracelets for all four of us, but you have to come with us to pick the best colors, Himawari. Did you know Doumeki is actually really good at making things? Look how far he got making a bracelet already!”

No one would have recognized this bright happy girl as the unhappy psychic of a year ago. Just as the Himawari who wore a mask of feigned happiness was alien to the Himawari who forged ahead to find her way even if it was difficult. Life was about finding the balance of living for yourself and living for others, that’s what Yuuko had been trying to show them the whole time. 

The rest of the day went by with even more chatter and laughter. Sundown nearly took them by surprise and the boys see their friends off to the train station before heading back home to the temple. 

“Thank you for organizing the picnic,” Watanuki said. The streetlights flicked on and the small shop owners in the shopping arcade were already going through the preparations for closing. 

“You ended up cooking too much,” Doumeki said. His nose crinkled in what Watanuki could tell was pouting dissatisfaction. “This was supposed to be a gift for you.” 

How did he ever think Doumeki was stoic? Petulance was writ all over his face and Watanuki wanted to smooth it out. “It was a gift. A great gift. We got to have a real flower-viewing picnic before Himawari leaves for art school. Besides I like cooking.” 

Clip-clop, clip-clop their geta echoed on the pavement and Watanuki suddenly appreciated the sound of them for some inexplicable reason. 

“Did you have a good talk with Himawari?”

How did he ever think Doumeki dense? 

“It was difficult,” he admitted. “But a lot of good came out of it.”

Doumeki nodded and rearranged his grip on the bags that Watanuki was certain he was going to try to hold Watanuki’s hand.

But he didn’t.

Watanuki told himself he wasn’t disappointed. 

“Shall we do this again next year?” asked Doumeki.

“Every year,” said Watanuki firmly. “We’ll do it every year.” 

He could swear that Doumeki’s eyes were shining and that his lips were quirking into a smile.

But that was probably just a trick of the light.


End file.
